


Space Stickers and Beeswax

by delicatelyglitterywriter



Series: Time and Space Prompt Collection [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 14:17:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20707397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delicatelyglitterywriter/pseuds/delicatelyglitterywriter
Summary: The first day of a class at uni is important, to know all the information vital to passing the semester, and apparently for meeting gorgeous girls who smell of beeswax and have notebooks covered in space-themed stickers.





	Space Stickers and Beeswax

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from Tumblr Prompt Ficlet Series:
> 
> just a little something I whipped up bc I didn't want to work on my other fic. for @thasminpotts on twitter

Yaz trudged up the stairs to Lecture Room 1, wishing she could just go home already. It had already been a  _ very  _ long day, and she wasn’t keen on sitting through three hours of someone talking at her about stuff she didn’t really care that much about. Still, it was the first lecture of the semester for the class, so she knew better to skip, and miss the vital information that would let her pass the class.

Sighing, she pushed the door open, moving to a spot in the middle, against the rightmost wall. The Professor - Professor Oswald, Yaz recognised - wouldn’t notice her having a small nap amongst 300 students. Well, that is if she didn’t start snoring. In the class she’d had with Professor Oswald last year, a bloke had been caught napping when he began snoring. The Professor had dealt with him without ever breaking her sentence to scold him. She’d simply shoved the whiteboard duster in his mouth, much to the amusement of the rest of them. But, as funny as it was to witness, Yaz definitely didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it.

Yaz plopped down, pulling out her iPad to take a couple of notes before she had a nap, and played a game on it while she waited for the lecture room to fill up with other students. Once the majority of the students were present, Professor Oswald began her lecture. Yaz half listened, jotting down the important stuff, trying to keep herself awake for as long as possible, to make sure she heard everything she needed to hear.

15 minutes in, Yaz was struggling to stay focused, and she felt herself nodding off. She jolted upright as the door at the front of the lecture room flew open, and a blonde stumbled in, arms and legs akimbo. 

“That assignment will be due on the 25th of November, welcome Joan Smith, have a seat, now does anyone have any questions about that?”

Yaz thought she heard Joan Smith mutter and apology as she righted herself and scampered further in, to claim a spot. Yaz watched her as she moved up the steps to find a seat, and took note of her eccentric appearance - blue trousers held up with bright yellow suspenders, a red t-shirt with rainbow stripes across it, complete with a knee-length grey coat. It was a weird combination, but she somehow made it work. Yaz wondered if she should try out a similar look.

As Joan came closer, Yaz could see her face was as red as a beet, but with the heaving of her chest, likely resulting from her running to get to class, she couldn’t tell if it was from the exercise, or embarrassment from being late. Joan then looked up, right at Yaz, flashing her a grin, and Yaz felt her heart stop.

Joan had the most brilliant green eyes she’d ever seen, and a gorgeous smile. She found herself gaping, and quickly forced it into a smile and a wave. Joan wiggled her fingers in reply, squeezing herself into the row in front of Yaz, taking the only available seat in said row - which just happened to be right in front of Yaz.

As she sat, Yaz caught a whiff of beeswax -  _ why the hell does she smell of beeswax? _ \- and she swallowed thickly. She watched as Joan pulled out an a4 notebook, covered in space-themed stickers. Yaz tilted her head, attention no longer on Professor Oswald; her focus was wholly on the woman in front of her. She recognised the familiar flutter in her stomach, and this time, unlike so many other times, she let it happen. Nobody from school was here to give her grief about it, and in a university this big, no one would care enough about it to give her a hard time. It felt good to finally let it happen.

She watched Joan’s mannerisms, how she sat up straight, sometimes hunched over to write rapidly into her notebook, and the way she tilted her head sometimes at something Professor Oswald said. Yaz wasn’t sure how far into the lecture they were, but it couldn’t have been that long, when Joan raised her hand. 

“Question?”

“Yeah. I read somewhere that historians think Shakespeare sounds better in an American accent. Why is that?”

Professor Oswald smiled. “Excellent question.”

She launched into an explanation, but Yaz wasn’t listening. She was replaying Joan’s words in her head. Not for the words themselves, but for the sound of Joan’s voice. She had a Northern accent, probably from Yorkshire somewhere, if Yaz had to guess. She thought Joan’s voice was beautiful, and found herself ecstatic each time Joan asked a new question throughout the remainder of the class. Her original plan to nap was completely forgotten.

At the end, Yaz stood with all the other students, and tried to muster up the courage to speak to Joan, but found she couldn’t. It was just too scary. Kicking herself and feeling glum all over again, she promised that she’d talk to Joan next week. She would do it next week, most definitely, after she’d had time to think about what to say.

She’d made it to the end of the row, when she heard Joan’s voice call out from behind her.

“Yasmin! Yasmin Khan!”

She froze, turning around. Joan hurried over, grinning broadly. Yaz was too befuddled but to say the first thing that came to her head

“How do you know my name?” 

“Asked the bloke sitting next to me,” Joan said. “While you were busy staring at me. Amazed you didn’t notice.”

Yaz felt herself blush a deep red, and she averted her gaze. “I, uh, er…”

“Hey, it okay,” Joan assured her. “Really. You can’t really help who you fancy, yeah?”

Yaz spluttered. “ _ Fancy _ ?”

“Yeah.” Joan shrugged, suddenly shy. “That  _ is _ what your expressions meant, isn’t it? That you fancy me? Oh, fuck, please don’t say I’m wrong.”

Yaz felt herself relax, glad to be in the presence of someone who was as awkward as her.

“Yeah.” She swallowed thickly, realising her admission a second too late. “That is, uh...yeah.”

Joan was visibly relieved. “Oh, good! That would be embarrassing if I was wrong. Anyway, I’m Joan, Jo to my friends.”

“I, uh, Yasmin, Yaz to mine,” Yaz said, shaking Joan’s outstretched hand. “Did you uh, like, want to do something together or…?”

Jo grinned brightly at her, bouncing on her toes. “Yes! I saw there’s a cafe on campus, how about we go there?”

Yaz found herself mirroring Jo’s expression. “Okay.”

“Great!” Jo grabbed Yaz’s hand without warning, dragging her back down the steps to the door she came in through at the beginning, rambling at a hundred miles a minute. “I could get a muffin from there! Oh, a  _ chocolate muffin _ ! I love a chocolate muffin! What will you get, Yaz? Do you like chocolate, too?”

Yaz didn’t answer, content to let her ramble, and just to listen to her, and her voice.


End file.
